


tick tock, says the clock

by sooksjns



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Mental Instability, a lot of symbolism i swear, sorta au where’s akira relives everything’s but resets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-27 00:06:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14413380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sooksjns/pseuds/sooksjns
Summary: time is everywhere. it never stays for long; it goes from seconds to minutes to hours. it never leaves us alone. time can be beneficial at a certain point but plays a constant reminder of how much longer we’ll live. it starts at 00:00 and will end at 00:00. time isn’t fair.





	tick tock, says the clock

**Author's Note:**

> this short story was from an assignment i had to do for english. welcome to an endless cycle of time.

It’s twelve-forty-two AM. There is no sound anywhere, except for the occasional feet that pass by the red door. Here, I lay in my bed, deciding not to sleep for the thirteenth time this month. The clock speaks, “Tick tock, it is now twelve-fifty-six in the morning.” No one can hear it, but me; I am the only one in this room of white with a bed and a table that carries books and a single white chrysanthemum. Pity is the first thought, though it is odd since I don’t harbour any emotion for a plain plant.

 

—

 

It’s one-o-six AM. The walls are melting into black goo, taking form as humanoid shadows, wearing white masks with holes all over that can be mistaken for eyes. “Tick tock, it is now one-thirty-five in the morning,” the clock says. My eyes land on a lone Möbius ring, examining its round shape. Then all of a sudden, I see blank, I hear high-pitched buzzing—I can’t breathe. Baphomet is on me. He is speaking mantras I do not understand and reshaping me. My body—I can not control it. It’s as if I am a marionette and Yaldabaoth plays the strings.

 

—

 

It’s two-twenty-two AM. I feel nothing. I am floating in space of my own creation. Distinctly, I hear, “Tick tock, it is now two-fifty-nine in the morning.” One minute more and the clock ticks.

 

—

 

It’s three-thirty AM. I blink and turn around to see a white pill and a glass of water. Oh, it’s a white poppy today. For the last time, the clock whispers, “It is now three-thirty-three in the morning; you may sleep.” My body relaxes; my vision sculpting into geometric shapes—a kaleidoscope of many colours—then none.

 

—

 

It’s four AM. I am safe now. The Shadows are gone at the sound of the creaking red door. A lady in white appears with a smiling mask. She says, “It is time for your medicine.” The time resumes to twelve-forty-two AM. Again.


End file.
